


juxtaposition

by foxmagpie



Series: little black dress and practical heels [4]
Category: Good Girls (TV)
Genre: F/M, Rio's POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-10
Updated: 2019-07-10
Packaged: 2020-06-25 13:40:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19746877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foxmagpie/pseuds/foxmagpie
Summary: After having their car sex interrupted by Beth's ex-husband, Rio and Beth return to Beth's house.---“God,” Beth says, shaking her head, embarrassed at herself. “Does anything get past you?”Rio just shrugs and looks over at her. He can feel her cheeks burn underneath his close examination of her, and he loves how easily she blushes, how easy it is to set her off-kilter.“I can’t have sex in this van,” Elizabeth tells him. “Not now.”“Aight, well, I was never under the impression a van was the only available option,” Rio says, raising an eyebrow at her. “I mean, there’s beds, walls, kitchen tables, the floor. Sofas, showers, countertops. Washin’ machines. Should I continue?”





	juxtaposition

_"DEAN! Oh my god—shut—shut the door!”_ Elizabeth screeches at the same time that Rio drawls, “Jesus, man, can’t you see we’re busy?” 

Dean looks like a deer in the headlights. He hesitates for a moment, drinking in the scene, and his face is some combination of angry and mortified, and normally this would amuse the fuck out of Rio, but he was _this close_ to getting Elizabeth off, so he mostly just feels cheated. 

After regaining some semblance of composure, Dean slams the door shut without a word, and Elizabeth basically slumps in the seat in front of Rio. Because everything happened so rapidly, Rio’s fingers are still inside of her. He pulls them out, knowing the mood is ruined. Elizabeth is silent, her eyes closed.

“You got baby wipes in here or somethin’?” he asks. 

The sigh that Elizabeth emits is long and deep, and he’s not sure if she’s annoyed at him for asking or whether it’s residual from being caught in a sex act by her ex-husband. Rio decides to wait it out for a few beats; he _will_ wipe his hands on his jeans if he has to, but if she’s got wipes handy (which, he assumes, most mothers do, especially the kind that drive vans like _this_ ) then that’d be better.

“Fuck,” Elizabeth says finally, and Rio likes the sound of that word on her lips. He senses she doesn’t use it often.

“You doin’ okay, mama?” Rio asks. He sits up on his knees so that he’s nearly eye-to-eye with her from his position on the floor, and he takes his clean hand and brushes Elizabeth’s hair to the side of her face. 

“Yes. No. I don’t know,” Elizabeth says quickly. “I don’t even know—I don’t even know how to process that.”

Unable to do anything about her rapidly shifting feelings, Elizabeth decides to do something concrete. She reaches behind the third row seat into the trunk, seems to dig around for a moment in a bag, and then pulls out some wet wipes. 

“Well, what do you wanna do? Stay in here, wait for him to leave? Go out there, confront him?” Rio asks. 

“Neither,” Elizabeth says, and she puts her face in her hands. She’s totally buggin’, and Rio can’t really blame her. She’s a real prim and proper type of white lady, and he imagines that car sex was pretty much her boundary for bein’ wild, so gettin’ interrupted—while on the verge of finishin’—by her jealous ex-husband no less—that’s just too much for someone like her. 

Rio’s about to start wiping his hand with the wet wipe that Elizabeth hands him when there’s more rapping on the window. _Jesus Christ_ , _what_ is _it with this guy?_

“You need a sec to get dressed?” Rio asks. Elizabeth nods, and Rio shields her as he clambers out of the car. 

Dean looks startled to see that it’s Rio, not Elizabeth, coming out of the van. Rio locks eyes with him and then very deliberately and very slowly starts cleaning the two fingers of his right hand. He catches Dean glance down at the wet wipe; his eyebrows twitch, but he don’t say nothin’. _Coward_. 

“Shit, man,” Rio says, eyebrow cocked. He readjusts the bulge in his pants, which makes Dean’s mouth fall open slightly—he's positively offended at Rio's strutting. “You interrupted at the wrong time. Now we’re gonna have to start all over.”

Dean chews his cheek and wrings his hands, but he doesn’t say anything. 

“Oh, nothin’ to say, huh? Interestin’, considering you just barged right in there like you had some urgent to report.” Rio looks Dean up and down, and Dean withers under the scrutiny. Shit, this guy is so pathetic. It’s too easy. 

“I need to talk to Beth,” Dean says, trying really hard to keep his voice steady, but he doesn’t meet Rio’s eyes. 

“Yeah, aight, we’ll wait for the boss, then,” Rio says, slipping his hands into his pockets and leaning against the driver's door of the van. “I don’t think she's gonna be too happy with you, though.” He wants to say more, say something filthy, say something that will get this guy to fuckin’ _break_ , but… he figures Elizabeth’s privacy has already been violated enough. 

Once Elizabeth has her panties and jeans back on, she steps out of the van. Rio know she’s a mess on the inside, but on the outside, she’s composed—her face is steel. She stands straight and rigid, staring directly at Dean. She looks like a total bitch, and Rio _delights_ in it. Then she pulls the power move and refuses to be the first one to speak. She just _waits_.

Dean finally gets so uncomfortable standing under her gaze that he gives in. “Beth, can we, uh… can we talk privately?” he asks, shooting a furtive glance at Rio before looking behind him and pointing over his shoulder.

“No.” 

Rio can’t help but grin and kick at the ground. 

“I feel like I couldn’t explain myself better if we could just—”

“ _N_ _o_ ,” Elizabeth says even more firmly. 

“Fine,” Dean says, and he rolls his shoulders, like he’s squaring up. “What the hell are you doing, Beth? In the car? Where the kids sit? In _public_? Who even are you?” 

Rio can’t fuckin’ believe this guy—the same guy that cheated on his wife only to parade the same lady around in front of her—accusin’ _her_ of being indecent? Shit. Fiery words are on the tip of Rio’s tongue, but he knows this aint his battle, and he knows Elizabeth’s gotta fight it herself. Dean wants to see her break, so if Rio swoops in, Dean's already won somehow. 

“I’m trying new things,” Elizabeth finally says, echoing Rio’s words from earlier, and damn, he’d forgotten he said that, but now a very self-satisfied smirk breaks out on his face. 

“But—”

“Let’s get one thing clear,” Elizabeth says, raising her voice just above his, cutting him off. “What I do… Where I do it… Who I do it with… it's _none_ of your business now.”

“I think it’s kinda my business when it affects the kids—”

“This _doesn’t_ ,” Elizabeth emphasizes. “So if you would excuse us, please.”

Elizabeth opens the van door again and climbs back inside, turning around to wait for Rio. He nods once at Dean, not bothering to hide the shit-eating grin on his face, and then follows her into the van. 

“Shit,” Rio says, impressed, joining Elizabeth in the third row seats. He laces his hands together on his lap. He knows that they aren’t about to resume getting hot and heavy—there’s just no way car sex is happenin’ now—but he’s not sure what her intentions were in inviting him back in the car, whether the night’s over and she was just fucking with Dean, or whether they might be able to head back to her place and finish what they’d started. 

Elizabeth’s hands shake as she runs one of them through her hair. “I hate him,” she seethes. 

“Yeah,” Rio says in acknowledgment. He figures he should just be quiet, let her rant until she’s exhausts herself. 

“Do you know what he did when I first caught him cheating and kicked him out?” Elizabeth asks. Rio shakes his head. “He _faked_ cancer, so I’d let him back in the house. Jesus, who _does_ that?”

“I’m sorry, _what_?” Damn, this guy's a fuckin' _trip_. Who does that?

“He faked cancer! We had fake doctor’s visits, fake records, everything. I don’t even—my god. And he wants to talk to _me_ about how my actions affect our _kids_? They thought their father might _die_. I took _care_ of him, as if he were really sick! I tried to forgive him for Amber, for Trish, for Katelyn, for Laurie—” _Jesus_ , Rio thinks. _How much worse can this guy get_? “—I tried so hard, and do you want to know how I found out the cancer was fake?”

Rio nods again, but Elizabeth not even looking at him now. She’s completely swept up in the drama and her fury, which Rio thinks is probably good. He senses she might just bury shit most of the time. 

“We were going to celebrate our 20th wedding anniversary—I didn’t know he was still sleeping with Amber—and he got into a wreck because he was _ogling a jogger in a sports bra!_ When I asked the doctors at the hospital how the accident would affect his cancer, they just stared at me like I was crazy!” Elizabeth laughs then, but she’s not amused. “You know he refused to move out the whole time we were in the middle of the divorce? Yeah. The house was one of our biggest points of contention, and so we just—ugh.” Elizabeth throws her hands into the air, exasperated. “And now? Tonight? He can’t even let me move on, either. After _everything_ , he’s still fighting to keep me under his thumb. I can never just _relax_. He _had_ to ruin my night.” 

Elizabeth sighs, defeated, clenching her fists so that her nails dig into her palms.

“The night’s not over,” Rio says softly. “It don’t have to be ruined.”

She looks at Rio out of the corner of her eye. “What do you mean?”

“I _mean_ ,” Rio says, reaching out to Elizabeth and gently prodding her jaw so that she’s facing him. “Your ex-husband fucking sucks. It sounds like he’s denied you everything: respect, partnership, privacy, the truth. So why you gotta let him deny you this?” Rio’s face mutates from something serious and empathetic to something playful when he says, “I mean, this _is_ your first single woman out on the town night.” 

“Oh my god,” Elizabeth whispers, a crease forming between her brows. “You heard that?” 

“Yep,” Rio says, his eyes bright and teasing.

“God,” Elizabeth says, shaking her head, embarrassed at herself. “Does anything get past you?” 

Rio just shrugs and looks over at her. He can feel her cheeks burn underneath his close examination of her, and he loves how easily she blushes, how easy it is to set her off-kilter. 

“I can’t have sex in this van,” Elizabeth tells him. “Not now.”

“Aight, well, I was never under the impression a van was the only available option,” Rio says, raising an eyebrow at her. “I mean, there’s beds, walls, kitchen tables, the floor. Sofas, showers, countertops. Washin’ machines. Should I continue?”

Elizabeth’s expression relaxes into a small, amused smile. “No, I think I get the gist. How far away is your place?”

Rio rolls his shoulders, which suddenly feel tight. He doesn’t invite women back to his place as a general rule, but he wonders whether she’ll balk at the suggestion of goin’ back to her place. 

“Far,” he lies. “Yours?”

“A little far,” she admits. “Fifteen minutes.” 

“Mine’s twenty-five, sometimes thirty. So should we head to yours?” he asks. 

“My kids are going to be dropped off early,” Elizabeth says hesitantly. 

“Aight, so I’ll slip out before,” he offers. He can still see Elizabeth weighing it, uncertain. He leans in close to whisper in her ear. “Personally, the thought of fucking you in the bed you shared with your husband and having you moanin’ my name—” He groans a little. “Or maybe on top of some of his shit.” He licks his lips and chances looking at her. Elizabeth’s eyes are dark.

“Follow me?” Elizabeth suggests, and Rio nods. 

* * *

Rio follows Elizabeth as she drives across town on the freeway, then exits to some suburban neighborhood where the houses are all large with wreaths on the doors and with full-blown gardens decorating the lawns. Some of ‘em even have personalized mailboxes, and Rio’s certain he’s never hooked up with anyone like Elizabeth before. 

The driveway Elizabeth pulls into is in front of a large white Colonial. It’s dark except for one light on downstairs, which Rio assumes is to trick potential thieves into thinking someone might be home. The thought amuses him. 

Rio parks across the street, locks up his car, and then meets Elizabeth on the porch. He can tell the fifteen minutes in the car alone has got her second-guessin’ herself again, but she refocuses when she feels Rio’s eyes run up and down her body and she unlocks the door with a steady hand. 

The lamp from the living room to the left casts enough light into the foyer for Rio to take in Elizabeth’s style, which is pretty close to what he expected. Her house basically looks like a Pier 1 catalog—he clocks a lot of generic art, throw pillows, floral patterns. 

Elizabeth turns around to face him. For a moment, they don’t move. They just look at each other, standing real close. Rio studies her lips, full and red. He looks at her doe eyes, big and blue. He can feel her staring at his tattoo, and then she reaches out to touch it with the tips of her fingers, tracing along the wing, making Rio shiver involuntarily at the softness of her touch. 

At the same time, they drop all pretenses of control, and their noses bump as they search for each other’s lips. They finally meet in a messy, tangled kiss, sloppy and rushed, both finally able to fully sink into it now that they’re completely alone. 

Rio’s not normally that into kissing—it’s all fine and good, but he likes to move on to pressing his lips elsewhere as quick as he can. But there’s an urgency in Elizabeth’s kisses, almost a frenzy. She’s pawing at his shoulders, digging her fingers into his neck, biting at him in a way that makes him just fine with letting this part last—until her hands are at the buttons of his shirt, and he’s just fine with lettin’ her take it off him, too. 

He can hear them both breathin’ heavily, and Rio feels that tightening in his groin. He moves, pushing Elizabeth backwards, turning her until she bumps into a wall and he can press himself against her so she can feel how hard he is for her through their jeans. She’s soft everywhere he’s not, and he buries his head into her neck to start sucking at the skin there. 

Elizabeth’s hands pause, leaving only half his buttons undone, and they trail down his body until one hand is running along the sharpness of his hip bone—he is briefly thankful for his foresight to leave his gun in the car—and the other hand is palming him through his pants. The sensation is rough and crude, and Rio pushes himself into her hand. 

Elizabeth forgets about the shirt and moves on to undoing his belt and unzipping his jeans, shoving down his briefs until she can get her hands around his cock, skin to skin. Since she’s so dainty and demure, he’s somewhat surprised when she spits into her hand and then resumes stroking him. He thrusts in and out of her hand; she’s twisting and teasing his head and he just wants to fuckin’ bury himself in her. Rio allows himself to enjoy the handjob for a few, sucking on her ear, pulling on her hair, until he can’t hold back anymore.

“I wanna taste you again,” he murmurs against her neck, and he can feel the tendons moving underneath his mouth as her breath hitches. She cups his balls, massaging them in her hand, and his head falls back and he groans before he takes both of his hands to grab both of her wrists and pin them against the wall near her head. 

Elizabeth’s eyes are startled and wild when he does this; Rio kisses her roughly; she moans into his mouth. He drops her hands to run his own along her ribs as he kisses down her body through her clothes until he drops to his knees and begins unbuttoning her pants. Beth rakes her fingers through his hair, and Rio loves the feeling of her perfectly manicured nails combing his scalp. Once Rio yanks her jeans down, Elizabeth kicks them off right there in the foyer.

The kisses Rio presses against Elizabeth’s panty line are light and teasing. His fingers grip her ass tightly in his hands, and Elizabeth’s hips buck when he runs his tongue along her happy trail. Sliding one hand from her ass to the back of her knee, Rio nudges Beth so that she hooks her leg over his shoulder, opening herself wider for him.

With his fingers, Rio plays with her edge of her panties, almost-but-not-quite touching her. He’s already learned that she likes this game, that she likes not knowing when he’s gonna break down and really _touch_ her, and he likes watching her squirm and try to press herself more firmly against him so that she can feel his touches better. 

He suspects she’s waitin’ for him to tear her panties down, but instead he just yanks them to the side and then uses his fingers to pry her open and run his tongue along her wet cunt. Rio’s lost in the taste of her. He sucks gently on her clit while he inserts one finger into her, then two, then three. He curls his fingers up inside of her, feeling for her G-spot, and Beth turns to putty in his hands.

She just keeps moaning, over and over, but sometimes there are little bursts of her saying, breathily and quickly, in rapid succession, “Yes, yes, yes, yes—” and “Don’t stop—don’t stop—don’t stop— _Don’t. Stop._ ” Rio feels her muscles clenching and tightening inside of her, and he quickens his pace, thrusting in and out of her, sliding easily because she’s just fuckin’ drenched for him. He gets rougher with his tongue, and he keeps going, maintaining the pace and the pressure until Elizabeth stops moving her hand through his hair. Her nails dig into him painfully as she lets out a deep moan through her clenched teeth. His face is still pressed into her cunt, but Rio smiles against her—satisfied and cocky that she’s finally gotten her orgasm. 

Elizabeth’s basically panting when Rio stands up and presses his mouth to her jaw, then her lips, and he’s surprised at the enthusiasm with which Elizabeth kisses him back; he knows she can taste herself on him.

Rio’s cock is still hard and pressed into Elizabeth’s pelvis. His hands are on either side of her head, over her hair, and her eyes are still closed in some sort of blissed-out state. 

“You still wanna—?” he asks.

Elizabeth’s eyes flicker open and she stares at his heavily-lidded gaze. She licks her lips. “Yes,” she says, and then she turns around, pressing herself into the wall, steadying herself with her hands as she arches her back to push her ass into him for the right angle.

Rio runs a hand across his jaw, taking in this image. His cock twitches. Elizabeth is simultaneously everything and nothing that he pictured when he turned around at the bar, and this juxtaposition of her as this perfectly well-mannered, uptight and nervous housewife with this fuckin’ eager, tentatively dirty bitch just… He has no words for it, but considering how hard he is right now, he knows he’s fuckin’ _into it_. 

Rio rips Elizabeth’s panties off her, tossing them to the side. Then, carefully, Rio positions himself at Elizabeth’s entrance so that he slides into her in one swift motion. He can thrust in and out of her easily—she’s so wet—but the friction of how tight she is and how well he fills her is making him lose control. The only sound is Elizabeth’s whines of pleasure and the clinking of his belt as it bounces around his upper legs as he fucks her. 

He’s still mostly dressed, but when he tries to grip her breasts in an attempt to steady her so that he can slam into her even harder, he’s frustrated that he can’t feel her skin beneath his hands. He slices his hand down her shirt and buttons fly everywhere. Rio drags the blouse off her arms haphazardly, and when she’s wearing nothing but a black, lacy bra, she splays her hands against the wall for balance. Rio takes one of his hands and pulls her hair into a ponytail of sorts so that he can run his tongue along her bare shoulder, her neck, suck her earlobe into his mouth.

Rio holds one of his own hands just beneath Elizabeth’s on the wall to steady himself. Then he reaches the other hand around Elizabeth’s body, sliding from the soft skin of her belly down to that tiny bundle of nerves. He works at her clit as he plunges his cock in and out of her tight little cunt, and Rio can feel his own orgasm coming on as he feels the Elizabeth’s muscles tensing around him.

“Come on, darlin’, come for me,” he whispers into her ear, his voice rough and gravelly. “I wanna feel you come on my cock, baby, come on.”

“Rio,” she breathes, and she relaxes against him, letting go, letting her orgasm roll over her. Rio’s good for five or six more thrusts, deeper and jerkier than his previous, and then he’s coming, too.

He’s still inside of her when he slumps against her, his chest to her back, pushing her into the wall, her cheek smashed up against the wallpaper. He’s breathing heavily, lowering his head to bury it in her hair, which smells like vanilla. He presses one last sloppy kiss to her shoulder and then pulls out of her. Elizabeth turns around slowly, like her legs are weak. She grabs his hand and leads him through a small hallway into her bedroom, then on to the ensuite bathroom.

Rio just spies a trickle of his semen sliding down the inside of her leg when Elizabeth wets a cloth down and hands it to him. While he’s cleaning himself up, he sees Elizabeth start to dab at her legs before her eyes go wide and panicked.

“We didn’t use a condom!”

“Fuck,” Rio groans. The _last_ thing he needs is a pregnancy scare from someone like Elizabeth. “You got Plan B or somethin’?”

“No—that’s not a concern,” she says quickly. “I can’t have more kids. It’s just—you know. Other stuff.” Her lips twist; she’s feeling awkward, like she might be accusing him of something. 

Rio visibly relaxes, lets his shoulders fall. “Oh, aight. Well. I get tested pretty regular, so we should be okay.”

He watches Elizabeth soak in this information, calculating—probably thinkin’ about how his frequent testing probably has to do with the number of women he fucks. 

“We’ll just both get tested before next time,” he promises, and he clocks Elizabeth’s surprised expression at his use of the words “next time.” It’s not that Rio never has one-night stands, it’s just when they’re this good? He makes sure there’s a few follow up sessions. 

Rio strips down to just his briefs and the black undershirt he was wearing, and Elizabeth changes into a matching pajama set—she even goes into the bathroom to change privately, like he didn’t just have his fingers and mouth and cock all over her naked body. He wants to laugh at her, but he’s too tired to do more than smirk.

He’s asleep in her bed before she even returns.

* * *

Rio sleeps in later than usual; he can feel it before he even looks at the clock. He’s surprised to find that he’s spooning Elizabeth, and their fingers are interlaced at her hip. 

Pressing himself closer to her, Rio shifts so that the movements wake her. Elizabeth squeezes his fingers, then lets go so that she can turn over and look at him.

“Mornin’,” he says.

“Good morning. What time is it?” 

Rio glances around at her bedside table and spots a clock. “Quarter past seven.”

Elizabeth nods and stretches. “My kids’ll be home soon.”

“Yeah, I know. I just wanted to wake you so you didn’t think I was slippin’ out without sayin’ goodbye.”

Elizabeth smiles at him, and Rio slides out of the bed, pulling on his jeans, buckling his belt, buttoning up his overshirt. He rolls up the sleeves and Elizabeth sits up slightly in bed.

“That’s thoughtful,” she says, but it seems like she’s not saying something else. 

Rio waits for a minute, but when she doesn’t continue, he says, “Okay. Well. I’ll be seein’ you.”

“You will?” she asks, and Rio can see that Elizabeth expected him to revoke his statement from last night, to change his mind and make this a one-time deal. Her eyes are bright, though—eager. 

“Yeah. I wasn’t kiddin’ when I said next time,” he says, and he walks over to her side of the bed and kisses her once more. When he pulls away, he sees Elizabeth is bursting with all sorts of questions, but she controls herself and asks none of them. Her refrain impresses Rio—he knows she hasn’t dated in, what, twenty years? And he knows that she’s not the type to accept wishy washy plans. She’s the type that gets a concrete date, time, location—but that's not him. “You’ll be hearin’ from me, don’t worry, mama.”

“How?” Elizabeth asks, finally breaking. “I haven't given you my number, or—"

“I got your address.” He smirks at her. She just nods, accepting what he’s offering. 

Rio walks out of her bedroom, back into the foyer, and now the morning sunlight spills in, reflecting all ten or twelve buttons pearl buttons scattered on the wood floor. Elizabeth’s jeans are crumpled underneath some little bench, and the blouse is twisted up in a bunch about five feet away.

Rio can’t help but smile at the mess as he slips through the front door.

**Author's Note:**

> Tell me scenarios you want to end up seeing in this series—tropes, things either one of them says/does, situations, whatever! I have their first date half-planned in my head, but I'm curious what y'all wanna see!


End file.
